"You okay?"

Neal didn't bother with a verbal response this time. Peter had asked him the same question at least half a dozen times since leaving the hospital and they were only halfway back to Brooklyn…and, his answer hadn't changed since the first time he was asked. Neal figured he needed to get Peter's mind on something else so he opted for a change of subject that didn't have any connection to his recent mishap. "It feels a bit cool out. Do you think we're in for an early winter?"

Peter took his eyes of the road to examine his young charge with a concerned crease of his brow only a parent was entitled to. "You cold? Andy said your fever had passed. There's a blanket in the back, I can pull over and get it for you."

"What...? No." Neal shook his head and shifted his eyes forward, indicating that Peter should be looking that way too. "I'm not cold. I just meant the air had a bit of a chill in it this afternoon."

"It's not cold." Peter tapped the temperature read-out on the display screen. "It's 52 degrees...You sure you're okay? You want me to take you back and have Andy check you over again."

"No," Neal stated adamantly. "I'm not cold. I'm not hot. I'm fine. Okay?"

Peter looked over once more, not at all convinced. "El went a bit overboard upon hearing you were being given the all clear and cooked up a bit of a banquet to have when you get home. Maybe you'll feel a lot better after you get some real food into you. Three days of hospital meals are enough to make anyone sick."

I'm not sick! Neal grumbled in his head. He wasn't hungry either. He'd totally lost his appetite but he didn't need Peter interrogating him on anything else so he went with, "Great."

# # #

Peter downed the last mouthful of wine and wiped his lips with a napkin before directing a question across the table to the younger man, "How you feeling?"

Neal put his own glass down while refraining from sighing. Peter had asked that question, no less than fifty times every day since he'd been allowed to leave the hospital. Well...it may have been only a couple of times a day, but it felt like a hell of a lot more. He mustered up his 'polite guest, not bringing any undue negative attention to himself,' voice. "Fine...thank you for asking," and tried not to sound too sarcastic.

"You think you're up to returning to work tomorrow?"

Neal's eyes lit up. He hadn't been expecting his ticket to freedom so soon even though he'd been silently begging for it with every waking hour. He'd been confined to the Burke's house for the better part of four days, excepting for a few short strolls around the block with Elizabeth and Satchmo. The nights were no less constricting with either Peter, or Elizabeth, sometimes both, poking their head in his room...every five minutes. Yes, it would be good to get his independence back and if Peter thought he was well enough to return to work, by default, he'd be well enough to return to June's. He had to force down his excitement as he responded. He didn't need Peter suspecting any ulterior motives. "Yeah...You know, I'm feeling pretty good again. Ready to jump back into it. Can't have Jones and Dianna thinking I've gone and found a better offer." Neal hoped that adding a joke might add to the sincerity of his case for being completely back up to speed.

"You sure, Sweetie?" El piped in from her end of the table. "Hughes has given you the rest of the week off if you need it."

"Nooo..." Neal chuckled. "That's just Agent Hughes way of keeping me out sight, out of mind for another couple of days. You know that man still cringes, every time we pass in the corridor."

"He does not," El admonished, and reached across the table and slapped the young man's hand playfully.

"Yes, he does," Peter deadpanned and went about stacking the dinner dishes into a neat pile.

Neal didn't need them all losing focus and forgetting how this subject came about so he cleared his throat and spoke confidently, "Back to your question, Peter. Yes, I'm ready to return to work tomorrow. Of course, I'll need to go back to June's to get my gear together, to get a suit." Neal was proud with himself for slipping that one in so causally. "I'm going to miss these delectable meals, Elizabeth, but I guess I have to go home sooner or later." Sooner, hopefully. As much as he wanted out, he wanted out of Peter's reach even more. At some point, Peter was going to make good on his promise and have that 'serious discussion'. When he'd first come back to the Burke's house, he had thought Peter was going to drag him up to the room and start wailing into him, right there and then. But it seemed Peter was waiting, waiting for him to be completely recovered from his ordeal, no doubt so he could fully appreciate the experience without the benefit of any pain-dulling meds he'd been issued on his departure from the hospital. And now that he'd just admitted to being fully recuperated, he needed to withdraw to safer territory...with haste. Neal pushed up from the table and gathered up some of the empty dishes, "I'll just help you clean up, Elizabeth, and then I might head off."

"Neal..."

There it was. That one syllable sound of doom.

Neal sunk back into his chair before his legs gave way. He'd been so close. So close to freedom. So close he could practically taste it and now... "Yes, Peter?"

Peter tilted his head with concern after watching the young man's sudden change in demeanour. "I was just going to say, leave the dishes. I'll fix them up after I drop you off at June's."

"Yeah?" Neal brightened instantly.

"Yes..." Peter's brow creased with suspicion. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"Nothing. No. I was just thinking that I should be helping to clean this up before I go."

"It's okay, Sweetie. You helped me get the dinner ready. Peter doesn't mind cleaning up."

Neal looked over to the kitchen. There really wasn't a lot left to do. Elizabeth was a neat cook and...could it really be that easy? Could he just grab his bag and head out the door? Peter would drop him off on the curb and they'd never speak of this unpleasant incident…ever again? "Okaaay...If you insist. I'll just go get my things."

"Neal..."

Neal, who'd been in the process of pushing up from the table, once more, slid back into his seat. "Yes, Elizabeth?" He tried to sound chipper and charming but, crap, it wasn't easy!

"Don't think you have to go back to June's tonight, just because you're well enough to go back to work. June sent over a clean suit and shirt along with your other outfits, just in case."

Good ole, June, Neal cursed, then cursed himself for putting the well-meaning elderly lady down, even if it was just in his head. "Oh, that was kind of her, but I still think I'll head back to my apartment and..." Neal tried to think of a justifiable reason, "and make sure Mozzie hasn't claimed squatter's rights." Good enough?

"Fair point," Peter found himself agreeing. "Mr Haversham was talking to me at the hospital about how he was thinking of upgrading to a river view."

"Well, there you have it," Neal pushed completely up from his chair and moved away from the table before any more road blocks were thrown across his path. "Time for me to go and reclaim my room. I'll just," he pointed to the stairs, "go get my things."

"Sure, Sweetie," Elizabeth replied with a smile before standing up and helping Peter with the dishes.

Neal glanced over his shoulder as he moved through the living area and breathed a sign of relief. He'd made it and it had been easy...In fact, almost too easy. Did Peter want him to go back to June's? Had that been his plan all along? Wait until he'd been well enough to go home to his apartment so he could trail him back. Had Peter planned it so Elizabeth couldn't come to the rescue once he started dishing out the mother of all hidings? Perhaps it wasn't a smart move going back to June's after all. June wouldn't hear anything from her bottom level - the old stone mansion had marble floors on the first two levels, meaning both soundproof and private. Neal could have a freshman college party in his apartment and June would be oblivious to it.

Neal stood at the bottom of the stairs, completely indecisive as to what he should do. It would be easy enough to go back in to the kitchen and tell them he was going to stay another night, but would that just give Peter an open opportunity to start wielding his deadly weapon. Neal closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead. Should he stay or should he go? Which would be the less painful option?

"Neal...?"

Neal felt a warm, comforting hand come to rest on his upper arm and he opened his eyes and looked directly into Peter's.

"You okay, kiddo?"

Aaahhh...What should he say? How should he respond? If he said he wasn't fine, would Peter speed dial Doctor Bryant and the impossibly happy medic come tearing through the Burke's front door with his rubber gloves and bag of needles. On the other hand, if he confirmed there was nothing wrong, would that be the same as waving a large neon sign that read, 'Punish me now!'

"Neal," Peter asked with a hint of impatience, "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean, 'what's wrong with me'?"

"What I mean, Neal, is that ever since you've come out of hospital you've been acting all kinds of weirdness."

"Have not," Neal declared with conviction.

"Have too," Peter countered.

"Have what?" Elizabeth appeared on the scene and joined in the debate.

"Ever since Neal came out of hospital, he's been acting weird."

"Not true," Neal defended.

"Well, yes Sweetie," El patted the young man's arm, "Peter's correct-"

"What a shock."

"Neal," Peter admonished. "Cut it out."

"Fine," Neal pouted.

"Sweetie," El continued, "each time Peter has asked you how you feel, you've looked as though you've been trying to work out some impossible calculus equation."

"Maybe I'm just tired of Peter asking me every five seconds."

Peter huffed in exasperation, then grabbed the younger man by the back of his shirt and pulled him over to the couch.

"NO! Wait!" Neal called out in alarm.

Peter paused and turned back, "What?"

"Uhh.." Neal looked at both Burkes but came up empty.

Peter huffed once more then pulled the kid the rest of the way to the couch and shoved him down into the seat.

Neal looked up in surprise, and then complete relief before scooting further back into the security of the couch. El came and sat beside him and Peter took up a perch on the edge of the coffee table. Suddenly, Neal no longer felt all that secure!

Peter leaned in close. "Talk."

Neal looked first to El then back to Peter. He gave the agent a lazy shrug and smiled, "About anything in particular."

Peter pressed his lips together and fixed the younger man with a first class glare. "Last chance, Neal. The very next comment out of your mouth like that one is going to land you over my knee."

"Isn't that what's going to happen anyway," Neal grumbled.

"That's up to you, Neal," Peter stated then considered, "Is that what this is all about? You're worried that I'm going to punish you? Punish you for going after Navarro on your own?" Peter knew how his young partner's mind worked - Neal's overactive brain kept working overtime, when he figured he was guilty of something that would be deemed unacceptable behaviour. He'd keep over thinking it, working himself into a state, until Peter finally put his mind at ease by letting him off the hook or at times, not letting him off the hook and following through with a suitable consequence. This is obviously what had happened here. "Neal..."

"Well of course I am, Peter. I keep expecting you're going to..." Neal trailed off and gave an embarrassed sideways glance to Elizabeth... "to you know, do what you said you were going to do outside the building after you pulled me out."

"Huh?" Peter asked, genuinely confused and searched his memories for what might have been said. "What did I say?"

"You know," Neal stated adamantly.

"No, I don't," Peter stated, equally insistent.

"You said..." Neal looked guiltily at the floor, "that...that...I had just earned...a date with your strap," he finished quickly.

"Hey," Peter reached out and lifted the younger man's chin, till he had eye contact. "Firstly, you and I, this thing we have going," he pointed back and forth between the two of them, "it requires a trust that I would never betray...I would never say something like that in front of Clinton that I know would humiliate you-"

"But-"

"No, no buts," Peter talked over the interruption. "You had you're chance to talk, in fact, you had the past couple of days and you didn't say anything, so now it's my turn," he paused to see if the kid was going to interrupt again, but it seemed Neal did have some sense after all. "Now, having said that, when Clinton and I dragged you out of the building and you were lying there in a bloodied mess on the pavement, punishing you was the furthest thing from my mind. I dropped down onto my knees, as the adrenaline that had flooded my body turned my legs to jelly and I prayed, that you would make it through this. I didn't know if you were going to be okay or not but I prayed to all the angles that watched over foolish young men and protected them from their own self-inflicted troubles. Apart from yelling at Jones every five seconds and asking him, where the hell were the paramedics, I didn't say anything else."

El reached out and took Peter's hand in hers. She knew her husband had been through hell, the afternoon that he'd called her to the hospital, but listening to him recount his emotional experience, cut right through her heart.

Peter swallowed down the lump in his throat before continuing, "In any case, Neal, you were knocked unconscious when you fell into the pile of concrete rubble. Anything that you think you heard me say, was all up here." He reached across and tapped the young man's forehead.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I really am sorry for putting you through that."

"Are you sorry for going after Navarro on your own?"

"I didn't-"

"Don't," Peter shook his head vigorously, "No, you don't get to justify your actions through some pathetic loophole along the lines of, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But I was..."

"NO! You weren't. You weren't supposed to be anywhere near Navarro. I specifically ordered you NOT to go anywhere near Nathanial Navarro and you blatantly disobeyed me, didn't you?" When Neal remained silent, Peter took that as an affirmative. "So, back to my original question...Are you sorry for going after Navarro on your own?"

Neal swallow hard. "Yes, Peter. I am."

Peter leaned back and crossed his arms while he studied his young partner. It hadn't even entered his mind to punish the kid for his actions. Sure, when he first noticed Neal's tracking data took the kid past Navarro's deli, he'd been as infuriated as all hell and was ready to kick his butt, all the way into next year. But after pulling the prone body out of the rubble, and the subsequent days of recovery at the hospital, the only thoughts he had were for the kid's complete recovery, and that his well-meaning, if not recklessly impulsive young partner, would be okay.

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. Even though he hadn't given any thought to walloping the kid for his actions, obviously Neal had. In fact, in his head, it was already a foregone conclusion. He expected consistency from Peter. No, more than that. He needed consistency from the man he saw as his surrogate father and the security in knowing that if he disregarded the expectations placed on him, he was going to be pulled back into line. "Neal..."

"Ah," Neal knew what was coming from the way Peter spoke his name and began to fast-track a 'get of jail' plan... "I did the wrong thing, trying to investigate on my own and I understand all the grief-"

"Neal," Peter sighed as he pushed up onto his feet and indicated for the young man to follow. He didn't need to hear it, he'd heard it all before. "Let's go."

"But-" Neal's heart began to pound.

"No," Peter put the hand on the back of Neal's shoulder and directed him towards the stairs. "This has been put off long enough. Time for you to face the consequences for your actions."

"Elizabeth..."

Neal reached back hoping to tether to a life line but all he got was a sympathetic smile and some paltry advice, "Maybe next time, Sweetie, you can think before you act."

"I will, I-"

"Let's go, Neal," Peter commanded in a firmer tone and this time Neal knew he had very little choice but to follow.

Neal dragged his feet up the stairs and stopped at the first door while Peter stepped inside and over to the wardrobe. The older man opened the side panel, revealing some belts and ties on hooks on the inside of the door and at the back, one old, thick leather strap. Neal's stomach did a dive as he watched on while Peter unhooked it and folded it into his hand.

"You realise the last time I had to use this," Peter commented while he pushed the door closed, "also involved an incident with a Navarro. I'm hoping this is a pattern, Neal. There better not be a third time."

"No, sir," Neal mumbled. Not a chance. Besides, Christopher and Nathanial Navarro didn't have any other siblings... although they did have an uncle who was no doubt involved in some unscrupulous dealings on the lower east side... "I won't be going anywhere near a Navarro, ever again. You can count on that, Peter."

"Glad to hear that, Neal," Peter moved past and made his way down the hall. "Doesn't mean you're getting out of your punishment."

"But, Peeeeeter..." Neal did his best whiny teenager impersonation.

Peter wasn't fazed He pointed into the guest room, aka Neal's room, before walking in himself.

Neal released a great sigh, slumped his shoulders and trailed in begrudgingly. He had to stop himself from running straight back out again when the first thing he saw upon entering the room was Peter unravelling the folded strap. "Peter..."

"Neal...?'

Neal sighed again, "Doesn't matter."

Peter looked at him expectantly, until Neal took the cue and began unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his jeans completely off before folding them neatly and placing them on top of the chest of drawers. Won't be needing these anytime soon, he thought to himself. Then he turned back to face Peter.

He opened his mouth to make one final plea, but Peter spun him straight back towards the bed and shoved him forward. "Over."

Not willing to irritate Peter any further, Neal complied. He bent over, rested his forearms on the bed covers and squeezed his butt cheeks together in anticipation. He knew he should be grateful Peter allowed him to keep his boxer briefs on, but he also knew from experience, they wouldn't offer much in the way of cushioning.

Thwack! He was right! The first whack stung like a lash of hot fire, straight through the cotton. Thwack! The second, Thwack! and third landed stings that hurt even worse than the first. Thwack! Neal pushed up from the bed and whipped his hands back to the assaulted area. "Peeeeeter..." Neal pleaded while jumping up and down on the spot. "It's so much friggen worse than your belt. Can't that be enough already?"

"No," Peter stated simply and pointed to the bed with the strap. "Back down or it's boxers down."

Neal reluctantly turned back to the bed and bent over, with one last vigorous rub to his sore spots.

Peter wasted no time in pulling back his arm and delivering four more...Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!...all across the same target – the sensitive undercurve.

"Ow...Owww...OWWWW!" Neal cried out in a cracked voice as he reached a hand back to shield his sit-spots from any more. "I'm sorrrry Peeeter. Plllleeese."

"Four more, Neal. Take your hands away."

"Nooooo..." Neal shook his head.

"Suit yourself," Peter pulled back his arm and delivered four more as promised...Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!... across the top of Neal's thighs where it stung the most.

"Aaaaahhhrr!" Neal cried out as he dropped forward onto the bed and began crying into the covers.

Peter tucked the strap under his arm and sat down on the bed, placing a comforting hand on the back of his young partner's shoulders. "I want you to remember those last four, Neal, because if you ever do anything so dangerously reckless again, I will whip you with this strap every night for a week. You understand?"

"Y-yes, s-sir," Neal sobbed with a hitched voice. "N-no more r-reckless be-haviour. I-I p-promise."

"Good," Peter patted the kid's back. "Now get some sleep. You're going to have a busy day at work tomorrow catching up on all the paper work you missed out on while you were out of action."

"Tmmwsowwm," Neal mumbled incoherently, his face still buried in the covers.

"What was that? Couldn't understand a word of it."

"Isdmtoosorww."

"Nup," Peter shook his head as he pushed up from the bed. "Still not sure what you said, but if it was anything along the lines of, 'Can you give me lots of paper work to do, because I want to sit all day tomorrow,' then, yes, no problem, Neal."

"ThatnotwhatIsaid!" Neal lifted his head so his words were more audible.

"That's what you said...? Yes, I know, I heard you," Peter chuckled.

Neal flipped over..."That's not what I said!"... and threw one of the small cushions off the bed at the older man.

Peter easily dodged it and flicked off the light. "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Peter...I really am sorry."

"I know. Sleep well."

Fat chance of that! Neal grumbled in his head as he rolled back onto his stomach and gave his rear some tender rubbing.

# # #

Ding...dong...ding...dong..

"I'll get it!" Neal called out from half-way up the stairs. He doubled back and skipped down to the front door.

It had been two days since Peter and him had sorted things out and he'd enjoyed spending time with the Burkes, without the unpleasant guilt fuelled, impending doom feeling hanging over his head. When Elizabeth suggested he stay on until at least the weekend, he had agreed easily, if not eagerly.

Ding...dong...

"Coming!" Neal yelled out loud enough to be heard through the door as he reached out and turned the key before pulling the door open. "H-"

Before he finished his greeting, his eyes opened wide in fright and he immediately slammed the door shut, springing away from the doorway, back towards the stairs, like he still might be in some kind of serious danger.

"Who was it, kiddo?" Peter appeared and asked casually before noticing the startled expression his young partner was sporting. "What? What is it?"

"N-nothing." Neal shook his head and tried to school his features. "It was nothing? No one."

"What...? No one rang the door bell?"

"No...I mean yes. I mean no, it was someone, but they had the wrong address."

"They did, did they?" Peter squinted his eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah...I think they were…lost?"

Ding...dong...ding...dong...

Peter tilted his head, "Seems like they're still lost." He reached out for the door but Neal jumped in to block his path.

"Wait! You shouldn't just go and open the door without checking. It could be anyone."

Ding...dong...

Peter sighed deeply... "You volunteering to protect me Neal?"

Neal made out to be seriously considering the answer but he took too long. Peter yanked the obstruction out of the way and pulled open the door. It revealed a bemused Doctor Andrew Bryant.

"Hey, Andy," Peter extended his hand and welcomed his friend.

"G'd evnin, Pete," Andy returned the hand shake, as he stepped through the doorway. "Something smells good."

"Yeah," Peter nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, "I believe El has made one of your mom's famous casseroles."

Andy's smile grew exponentially. "I thought that's what I could smell from outside and I was beginning to panic, I may have been 'uninvited' to dinner." He directed the last part at Neal.

Neal dropped his gaze to the floor and studied his feet.

"Sorry about that, Andy. Who knows what's going on kids' heads these days."

"Peeeeter!" Neal gave him a small, embarrassed shove.

"Don't worry about it, Peter," Andy chuckled. "My two never cease to pull some surprise out of their hats, when I least expect it."

"Yeah," Peter shrugged, "Still...apologies to Dr Bryant, please Neal, for shutting the door on him."

"Peeeeeter..." Neal whined in objection.

"Neeeeal..." Peter warned.

"Fine," Neal grumbled mostly to himself before raising his voice to be heard, "I apologise Dr Bryant for mistaking you for a home invader masquerading as a travelling salesman and for shutting the door quickly in order to protect the Burkes."

"Neal!" Peter admonished.

"Hey," Andy laughed as he stepped towards the kitchen, "don't worry about it. Besides, it so easy to mistake identity. Who knows, after I have a glass of wine I might accidently mistake Neal for a patient of mine due his flu booster shot...Could happen to anyone."

Neal's mouth dropped open, "W-wa."

Andy laughed, while moving towards the kitchen, "I'm just going to see if I can't steal a spoonful of that casserole. Don't think I can hold off till dinner."

Neal waited for the doctor to move out of sight before making a break for the stairs, but Peter blocked his path.

"Neal..." Peter put his hands on his hips and fixed the kid with a glare.

"What...?"

"You know what...Slamming the door on Andy."

"Well what can you expect," Neal offered defensively. "I didn't know he was coming over."

"His wife and kids are out of town for the week. El invited him over for dinner."

"How was I supposed to know that? Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter pressed his lips together and furrowed his brow, leaning down close and lowering his voice to a menacing level, "I didn't tell you cause I didn't want you freeeeaking out, and doing something stupid..."

Neal raised his eyes, in a 'why would you ever think that,' expression.

"Like slamming the door in his face!"

Neal slunk back, just a fraction. "I got a fright, okay."

"NO!" Peter pulled the kid forward again and reached back and swatted him hard, twice on his butt. "Not okay. Don't do it again. Clear?"

Neal reached back and rubbed. "Yes...sir..." He quickly stepped around Peter and onto the first step. "I was thinking of getting an early night. Would you mind telling Elizabeth I'm going to skip dinner."

Peter couldn't help a smile. "You can tell her if that's what your planning on doing."

Neal huffed, "Fine. I'll have dinner...But don't think I'm sitting next to the travelling salesman."

Peter shook his head. "Whatever." He started off towards the dining room but called over his shoulder, "Bring the 'salesman's' bag with you please."

Neal started after Peter but turned back to look for said bag, thinking Peter was pulling his leg. Unfortunately, he wasn't. Sitting on the floor, right where Andy had come through the door, was a small, black leather carry case, not unlike one a house-call doctor might use. Neal's eyes widened in horror and he was about to shout out after Peter but at the last minute he changed his mind and darted up the stairs to the sanctuary of his room. Given the two choices, he would rather take his chance with Elizabeth!

# # # # # # # #

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